


Crowns and Feather Dusters

by Pumpkin_Queen



Category: Fable (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:12:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6653806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pumpkin_Queen/pseuds/Pumpkin_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in Bowerstone Industrial is a tough one, but for some, it is all they've ever known, and not as hard as it seems. But sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures, and when a friend needs help, Erena can't bring herself to look the other way, even if it means getting much closer to the nobility than she likes. But what choice does she have?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Bowerstone Industrial was a dark and gloomy place; the thick, black smoke from the factories poured into the air, and not even the wind coming in from the sea seemed to be capable of clearing it. Everything, from the houses to the people, were covered in a layer of soot, and the water that ran sluggishly through the canal was murky, and covered in an oily film.

In the early morning fog that mingled with the smoke, giving it an unhealthy grey tinge and making it difficult to see, tired-looking children and exhausted adults, many dressed in patched and filthy overalls with the logos of the factories they worked at stamped on the front, were stumbling out of their houses, or prying themselves off the ground where they'd slept for the night. One young woman - for, despite the baggy, patched, and dirty clothes that hung from a frame too skinny to be healthy, it was indeed a woman - sprinted through the early morning fog, expertly dodging around the folk who were doing spot-on impersonations of Hollowmen as they stumbled across bridges and towards factories. In her right hand, she clutched a pistol, the tarnished but well-maintained metal glinting in the dim light of still-glowing streetlamps. In her left, she clutched a fat, fancy coin purse that jingled merrily with every step she took.

Behind her were two men in clothing far too fancy and clean to belong to anyone from Industrial. They were shouting insults that echoed in the quiet, as they struggled to keep her in their sights. One of them was waving a shiny pistol in the air, and occasionally, an almighty *crack* split the silence as he fired a round uselessly into the air. Though the sound made the folk around them flinch in terror and check themselves to ensure they'd not been the ones shot, it only made the woman laugh out loud.

"I 'ear Reaver 'eld another of 'is fancy parties up in 'is manor last night!" She called back to the pair as she ducked into an alley that ran between two factories. "Knowin' Reaver, it was one 'ell of a party, am I right?" She didn't miss a beat as she came face-to-face with a gate at the end; she was up and over in mere seconds, dropping to the ground on the other side with barely a grunt.

"Must be nice, havin' all that money to waste on rubbish like that." She bounced back a couple of steps, a grin on her face, as the pair barreled up to the gate and, clearing expecting it to swing open, crashed into it. The pistol one of them had been holding went flying out of his hand at the impact, landing not too far from her boots.

"Erena, you thieving little bitch!" One of them snarled, arms reaching through the bars of the gate to grab at her, though she was nowhere near close enough for his fingers to even brush her. Baring her teeth in a somewhat savage grin, Erena deposited her own pistol into one of the pockets on her coat, and bent down, scooping up the dropped pistol.

"An' 'ere I was, thinkin' I was the coarse one, since i grew up 'ere in Industrial an' all. Must be 'ope fer me yet, though, if ya fancy-folk are goin' round, speakin' like that." She said as she carefully examined the pistol, not even bothering to look at the two trapped on the far side of the gate. They snarled insults at her, rattling the bars, as if hoping the thick chain and lock would suddenly give way, but she ignored them, snapping the safety on the pistol into place and sliding the shiny weapon into her pocket to join her own.

"You little-!" The owner of the pistol yelled, as she turned her eyes to them once again. He went red in the face as he struggled to decide what to call her. "Give that back!" Evidently unable to settle on something that would truly upset her, he left the insult hanging.

"Nah, think I'll keep it. Ya never know when a fancy piece like that's gonna come in 'andy. 'Course, it's more fer show than anythin', so the best it'll do is fetch me a few shiny coins fer my pocket." With a mocking bow, Erena turned on her heel and starting walking away, humming cheerfully and tossing the fat coin purse into the air repeatedly. "Ya have a fine mornin', now."

She heard the pair start shouting insults again as she trotted up the metal stairs on the outside of a nearby building, and swung herself into a quiet warehouse through the door at the top. It was deserted, save for a couple of birds in the rafters, and some mice scuttling about in the shadows.

Pausing on the far side of the door as it clicked shut behind her, muffling the shouts, Erena slid the coin purse into another pocket on her coat, and bit her lip, gnawing gently as she considered.

"Bloody 'ell, they're annoyin'." She finally grumbled to herself, pushing away from the door and wandering down the walkway she was on. The old, dusty wooden boards creaked beneath her feet as she made her slow way along it, towards the ramp that would lead her to the ground floor and the front doors. "Ya'd think they'd lighten up about this kinda stuff, what, with it happenin' regularly."

Oh, how she hated rich folk.


	2. Chapter 2

Erena hated Rich Folk. Anyone higher than lower class, who flaunted their money through their clothes and jewellery, she couldn't stand. Many of them sent her disgusted looks when she passed them by, on those days she wandered out of Bowerstone Industrial for a breath of air not full of smoke. Some of them were shocked by the equally disgusted looks she sent right back at them.

The ones she hated the most, though, were the people of the Upper Class. The ones who lived in the fancy manor houses, and spent their days wandering the castle grounds. The staff who wandered down to the Riveter's Rest in Industrial, seeking cheap beer to drown their irritation in the evenings, often talked about them; making grandious claims to make themselves look good in the eyes of their peers, and attempting to cozy up to the King - who never seemed to care - to make themselves look even better.

Erena had never seen one of the rich Rich Folk before; they were too focused on appearances to dare venture down to Industrial. The only known exception was Reaver - though she'd never seen him before, either. An orphan who grew up picking the pockets of the lackeys the Rich Folk sent in their place often spent more of their time running away from the interest and excitement, pockets stuffed with ill-gotten gains, than they did towards it. Erena had not been an exception to that.

So the man she saw outside the Orphanage, talking to a middle-aged woman in a stiff grey dress and white apron - the Matron - caused her to stop short. His clothes were incredibly fancy; a - somewhat ridiculous, but no doubt 'in style' - wig, light purple overcoat, white trousers - that Erena thought was a very brave move on his part - and black buckled shoes shined to a gleam. Not even the Rich Folk she'd spent the morning running from wore clothes so brave and fancy down to Industrial.

She eyed him warily as she resumed her walk towards the Orphanage, somewhat stiffly. Every part of her was tense, ready to turn and run should it be necessary. He was a large, portly man, so she doubted he would be able to keep up with her should he have a reason to pursue, but there was never any telling with Rich Folk. She'd been surprised before.

However, all she received was a look; not one of disgust or shock, but a simple smile, and a nod of greeting from him, as she started up the stairs to the front door, before he turned back to his conversation. He didn't even show any signs of being bothered by the look she'd adapted when their eyes had met; her look of disgust.

The Matron also shot her a nod of greeting, but there was no smile on her face; only an oddly strained, distressed look. Her fingers were curled into her apron, creasing the neatly pressed fabric, and there was an unusual tenseness to her shoulders.

To Erena, who'd known the woman since she'd been a child, seeing the strict but fair Matron tense caused an uncomfortable sense of dread to settle briefly in her stomach.

"...Understand, but it's not that simple." She heard the Matron say as she reached the door. "He's not available for adoption. His mother..."

"Nonsense!" The man interrupted; his voice was a mix of a jolly middle-aged man, and a formal Upper Classer. "I was told all of the children here were available for adoption!"

"Well, yes, most of the time, but he's not. His mother..."

"Will be honoured to know her son will be raised to be an upstanding member of society!" Again, the Upper Classer interrupted the Matron, and Erena felt her jaw tense, as did her hand that was resting on the handle of the door. "Now, I shall be returning next week for the boy. Have a fine day, Madam!" With a hearty, carefree laugh that caused her teeth to grind, and reaffirmed her hatred of Upper Classers, she heard the crunch of heavy footsteps on dead grass that indicated the Upper Class was walking away.

"Bloody Upper Classers." She grumbled under her breath, throwing the door open with more force than necessary.

Though on the outside, the Orphanage was a old, ominous looking building tucked behind the factories, with boards on many of the dirty windows, the inside was full of life. There were young children everywhere, outnumbering the adults two to one. Some were painting on the walls of the main hall, decorating the faded wallpaper and scratched wood with brightly coloured pictures in a typical child's scrawl. Others ran about with toys; makeshift weapons or patched stuffed animal.

Erena made her way down the hall with little effort; she dodged around the children darting about, and carefully avoided the children painting, eyeing the paint on their hands, clothes, and faces, ready to bolt should they see fit to turn on her and mark her clothes with bright colours that would make her stand out where she wanted to blend in.

She was sent nods, smiles, and quick greetings by the adults as she moved down the hall. She returned each one as she got one, but didn't stop to chat; they were busy, she was not. She took the stairs up to the rooms at the back of the orphanage two at a time, ignoring the creaking beneath her feet.

As she moved away from the general chaos of the children down below, and further into the quiet of the bedrooms, she caught a new sound; a gentle humming. As she reached the top step, she slowed her pace and tiptoed to the doorway of the Orphans' shared bedroom.

Inside, she could see a woman standing by the row of cribs at the far end of the room. Like many of the people Erena had seen that day, the woman was dressed in clothes rather neat and clean for Industrial, though they were not fancy, as the others had been, but practical. She had her back to Erena, who could see her blonde hair tied up in a neat bun, and covered with a bandana, and a feather duster tucked into the belt looped around her waist.

Tilting her head slightly, Erena crossed the room in three wide, slow steps, careful to avoid making the floor creak beneath her weight, to stand directly behind the woman.

Leaning forward, she hovered over her shoulder, peering down into the crib the woman was standing in front of. The baby inside, curled beneath a blue blanket, was fast asleep, while the woman fussed gently with the curtains.

"Mornin', Marie." Erena whispered into the woman's ear.

Marie gave a strangled sound that was the beginning of a shriek cut off abruptly by one hand clapping over her mouth. Erena jumped out of the way as Marie jerked away from her and around, eyes angry.

"Erena!" She hissed through her hand, swatting at Erena with her free hand. Erena dodged easily, a grin on her face. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry, sorry!" She held her hand's up in surrender as Marie advanced on her, raising her hand to swing at her again. "But ya left yerself open fer it! Ya know I can't resist!"

"Well, you should have!" Marie hissed, dropping both hands, and spinning on her heel to face the crib once again. "You could've woken Tommy, and I just got him to sleep, too!"

"But I didn't." Erena replied, stepping up so she was standing next to the crib. The baby hadn't woken; he'd barely moved. The only part of him that was moving was his chest as he breathed. "So ya got nothin' to worry about." She dropped a hand into the crib, running her fingers against the patched fur of a small stuffed bear sitting in the crib with the child. One of the boy's small hands was curled around the leg of the bear.

"Lucky for you." Marie grumbled, though her voice was more exasperated than angry, and Erena knew she was off the hook for giving her a scare.

"Hmm..." Erena hummed in response, as her eyes wandered from Tommy to Marie. The other woman looked stressed; strands of her blonde hair were loose from her bandana, hanging in front of her face, and her clothes looked distressed, as if she'd been tugging at her apron and skirt. "Ya alright, Marie?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah." Marie jerked upright, shoulders going tense at the question. "Yes, I'm fine." Erena frowned at her, tilting her head to peer closely at Marie's face.

"Uh huh." She responded, not convinced. "This got anythin' to do with the Upper Classer I saw out front?" Marie's shoulders slumping immediately was all the answer she needed, but she waited quietly.

"You... You saw him?" Marie asked slowly, hesitantly.

"Couldn't 'ave missed 'im. Kinda stand out, bein' 'ere in Industrial in those fancy pantsy clothes of 'is. Got guts, wearin' white 'round 'ere." Erena shrugged. "What's goin' on? The Matron seemed really distressed."

"He wants to adopt Tommy." The matter-of-fact, monotone voice Marie used caused any hope Erena had that the matter was something stupid and unimportant to go flying out the window, and her stomach to drop in dread.

"...what?" Her voice, when she finally found it, came out in a hiss.

"He and his wife. They came in this morning, before I arrived to check on Tommy. The Matron didn't have time to move him to her room before they saw him." Marie's voice was trembling, as she explained. "They were taken with him immediately. They don't care that he's my son; they won't take no for an answer."

"No." Erena growled, hand moving to the pocket containing her pistol. Her fingers gripped the top of her pocket, digging into the fabric. "They can't take 'im. I won't allow it."

"But what if I can't stop them? The Orphanage understands my plight, but they won't just let me take him home; they still have to charge me the adoption fee, and I haven't got enough to pay it yet." Erena saw Marie's arms lift, wrapping around herself, but she delved a hand into her coat, fingers feeling through frustratingly empty pockets until they finally found what she was seeking.

"Then, 'ere." She held out the coin purse she'd lifted from the pocket of her early-morning pursuers. The fat purse jingled merrily as it swung from its strings in her hand. "I dunno 'ow much is in it; I 'aven't 'ad time to count it yet."

"Erena..." She couldn't quite understand the tone to Marie's voice; somewhere between surprised, and reproaching. "I know you stole that. I can't take it. Besides-"

"No 'besides'!" Erena snapped, directing a glare at the floor to keep it off of Marie. "I know what yer gonna say; 'ya need it more. ya probably 'aven't eaten in days.' but it don't matter! I can go a bit longer without eatin'; ya know I can!" She thrust the purse out again, taking a step closer to Marie so it was dangling in front of her face. "I know what yer son mean to ya! And ya know most of the money in 'ere would've gone to the Orphanage anyway!"

There was silence for a moment, and then the purse was gently lifted. Erena released the strings, allowing the purse to slump in Marie's outstretched hand. "Alright, Erena. I'll take it." There was undisguised gratitude in those words, and Erena felt her shoulders slump in relief.

"Good."

"But... there's one other problem." Erena felt her relief disappear, and her body go tense again.

"What's that?" She asked slowly, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I have a job; I can't take him with me every day; I'd get fired for that!"

"...So, what could ya do?"

There was silence as Marie thought for a moment, fingers kneading the coin purse gently. "Well... I could* hire a Nanny. I know a few people who'd be willing to take him during the day, and look after him till I get off."

"But?" Erena prompted, waving her hand slightly in an odd gesture.

"But I don't think I could afford it, and I can't expect them to take him for free!"

"Oh..." Erena tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "Well, maybe I could 'elp? I got nothin' i'm savin' for, 'nd I can easily survive off a few coins a week. I could 'elp ya pay a Nanny."

Marie shot her an appreciative look. "I appreciate the offer, Erena, but it wouldn't feel right, paying a nanny with ill-gotten money you acquired through pickpocketing."

"It's the only income I got. Ya know I tried to get a job, but no one wants a Lower Classer like me workin' fer 'em. Bad for business, they think." She grimaced. "And I'm not gonna work in some factory. No way in 'ell."

Marie went silent for what seemed like the millionth time to Erena, face turned towards the crib containing her young son.

"Well..." She finally said, her voice slow and, to Erena, eerie.

"...I don't like the way ya said that, Marie. What're ya thinkin'?" Erena demanded.

"I know one place where you could get work..."

Erena grimaced again. "Why do I feel like I should be runnin'?"


	3. Chapter 3

There were many things Erena was intimidated by. Most of the things, she would never admit to being intimidated by. She had her pride.

She was intimidated by the Mercenaries that lurked in Industrial. Hired by small-time factory owners, anonymous gang bosses, or even by Reaver at one time, they hovered around some of the factories, picking fights with anyone who wandered near, including the workers. In the evenings, they wandered to the Riveter's Rest, and picked fights with the folk who just wanted to relax for a while after surviving another day in Industrial, while they steadily got drunker and cruder.

Erena tended to avoid the Mercenaries. They liked to get grabby with women, and most days, she wanted to do nothing more than shoot them. where depended on the situation.

She was intimidated by Bowerstone Market. The people there were snobbish and rude, ignoring the people who begged on the streets or treating them lie they were lower than the ground beneath their feet. They were terrible to the folk from Industrial who wandered to the Market for a change of scenery and a breath of clean air.

Erena had spent the majority of her childhood on the streets of Bowerstone Market. She'd grown to hate it there; everything was bright and open. But she'd taken great pleasure in lifting coins from the pockets of the snobs, and retreating to Industrial, where she'd always felt safe as a child.

She was also intimidated by Millfields. Like the Market, the people were snobbish and rude. But they were moreso, because they were Upper Classers. They had more money than they could ever spend, more than they would ever need. Erena rarely ever went there; she had no need.

And then there was the castle. Once a symbol of Albion's prosperity, it had become a symbol of its oppression, housing a Tyrant who claimed to be a King, and a Princess so many had forgotten existed. She doubted there was anyone in Bowerstone that wasn't intimidated by the castle, whether they admitted it or not.

But never in her life, did Erena ever think she'd be intimidated by the two people Marie dragged her off to Bowerstone Market to see.

Apparently, agreeing to the potential job offer Marie had provided, hesitantly, had meant that she needed a complete do over on her appearance.

A man with ridiculous bright pink hair in an insane hairstyle, wielding a pair of scissors and a brush, and a woman in a very smart dress, armed with a measuring tape, were more intimidating than even the tallest and burliest of Mercenaries Erena had ever run into. The woman had tutted and grumbled at Erena as she'd moved around her, taking measurements at such a rapid pace that Erena was left reeling when she said she was done, and she'd had no time to recover before she'd been dragged across the Market to the Barber's.

The man had taken one look at her hair, and hauled her inside his shop before she could even protest.

The end result of the trip was hair shorter and cleaner than it had been in a long time. There'd been so much soot in her hair that she'd forgotten that hair was actually brown. Apparently, Marie had forgotten too, because after she returned from a quick trip back to the clothes shop, for reasons she'd refused to discuss, she'd stared at Erena for at least a minute, before Tommy had started cooing at something and distracted them both.

Erena wanted nothing more than to retreat to Industrial, to her hiding place behind the really big crates on the docks that no one had moved in a very long time. But Marie wasn't having any of that, because the other woman was hauling her off in the direction of Old Quarter, where she lived.

"So, tell me," Erena said as she stumbled along behind Marie, struggling slightly to keep up with Marie's pace, "why did I 'ave to get my 'air cut?" with the hand that Marie wasn't holding in a vice-like grip, she fingered the much shorter hair.

"Because if you're serious about getting a job to help me with Thomas," Erena grimaced at the use of Tommy's full name; Marie only used full names when she was being serious, "then you need to look presentable. You need to make changes, to more than just your appearance. If you show up looking like you did, then you'd be turned away at the door."

"Are ya gonna tell me where this job is?"

"Same place I work." Marie stated as she tugged her around a corner. "We had a few people leave at around the same time, so we're understaffed. And don't worry, this is a job even you can do."

"Fer one thin', I dunno where ya work, Marie. And fer another, that was insultin'." Erena grumbled as she glared at Marie's back. The other woman shot her a smirk, which made Erena scowl. "So, where do ya work?"

"I've told you that before, Erena." Marie responded, releasing her wrist so abruptly that Erena stumbled and almost fell.

"Yeah, well, apparently, I wasn't listenin'." Rubbing her wrist, Erena frowned at Marie as she walked up a small set of stairs to the front door of the house she'd stopped outside of. It looked like most of the houses in Industrial; narrow and cramped, with the stairs to the upper floor on the outside of the house. It wasn't as dirty-looking as the houses in Industrial; the stone walls looked like they been recently washed by someone, and the windows were boarded up. "Where are we?"

"This is my house, Erena." From a pocket on her skirt that Erena hadn't realised was there, Marie pulled a key. "Well, it's not mine; I rent it. But I live here."

"Looks kinda like the 'ouses in Industrial. Just cleaner." Erena commented as Marie unlocked the door and breezed inside. She followed hesitantly, tapping her feet on the threshold, as if it would remove whatever was stick to her boots and keep her from tracking it inside.

The house was as small inside as she'd imagined. There was a stove, a sink, and a large cabinet by the front window, and a dining table in the middle of the room. At the back of the room was a cupboard, a bedside table, and a double bed tucked up in the corner. "Do ya sleep down 'ere?"

"No, I sleep upstairs, and Tommy will sleep up there with me." At his name, Tommy cooed at his mother, tiny hands reaching up to grab at the loose locks of hair hanging free of Marie's headband, just out of reach.

"Then what's the bed down 'ere fer?"

"Well, I've used it occasionally when I'm too tired to walk upstairs at night." The front door closed with a click as Erena pushed it closed. She didn't move far from the door, though. "But, like i said, if you're serious about getting a job to help me with Tommy, then you need to make changes."

"So, what, yer sayin' that if I get this job yer offerin', then I can live 'ere?" The thought of living in a proper house, sleeping in a proper bed, was both intriguing and horrifying to Erena. She wasn't sure why she felt horrified, though. The feeling was just there.

"Well, yes. I've offered it to you before, though. You've just never actually answered me."

"Apparently, I don't listen too well."

"Apparently not."

Erena stared at the bed for what felt like a long time, and then looked around the room slowly, before turning her attention to Marie. "Where do ya work?" She finally asked.

"Before I tell you, I want to know; are you sure about this, Erena?" There was the serious tone again. "Because if say yes, you're promising to see this through."

"Unless I get rejected by yer boss."

"It's a possibility, but an unlikely one."

"I said I'd 'elp ya, Marie, and I meant it. Ya know I don't break promises."

Marie stared at her for a minute, and then sighed. "Alright."

"So, where do ya work?"

"The castle."


End file.
